“Richard Alvin Ausley, a serial child molester whose brutal crimes led to a Virginia law that allows the state to hold some violent sex offenders indefinitely, has been slain in his prison cell, officials said yesterday.
Ausley, 64, was found dead between 10:30 and 11 p.m. Tuesday at Sussex I Prison in Waverly, Va., Department of Corrections officials said. An autopsy conducted yesterday showed that Ausley was strangled and suffered blunt trauma to the torso, said Evelyn Henson, a district administrator for the Virginia medical examiner's office in Richmond.
In 1973, Ausley abducted 13-year-old Paul Martin Andrews, chained the boy inside a plywood box he had buried in the woods and sexually assaulted him at least twice each day for eight days. The boy ultimately forced the box open slightly and yelled for help, and he was rescued by hunters.
Andrews, who last year successfully lobbied Virginia lawmakers to fund a program that allows the state to seek civil commitment of sex offenders after they serve their prison terms, said yesterday he was shaken by the news of Ausley's death.
"I'm still very conflicted, and I'm trying to come to terms with it," Andrews, a computer programmer, said from his Miami home. "I did what I did to keep him off the street. Nobody deserves to be murdered."
Larry Traylor, spokesman for the Department of Corrections, said that investigators were examining evidence and conducting interviews and that no charges had been filed. He said Ausley, whose body was found by a prison employee, shared a cell with another inmate…”
— Source: Washington Post article by Maria Glod
"On the morning of September 26, 1970, Gary Glanz, a 30-year-old private investigator from Tulsa, found himself headed north on U.S. Highway 75 through the Oklahoma countryside. It was a warm, clear day that still felt more like summer than early fall.
But the idyllic scene was spoiled by the solemn, even fearful, mood in the car. Glanz was traveling with a woman named Linda Mullendore and one of her attorneys, John Arrington. Arrington had awakened Glanz early that morning with a phone call and retained Glanz’s services on his client’s behalf. The woman had learned hours earlier that her estranged husband of 11 years, millionaire E.C. Mullendore III, had been shot dead the night before on his ranch.
Arrington had explained to Glanz that E.C. Mullendore had been insured for $16 million, but was heavily in debt and had become involved with unsavory characters from the Kansas City, Missouri and St. Louis areas. Glanz was summoned to provide security for the woman and her children.
The investigator moved quickly, calling his contacts at the Tulsa Police Department and asking to have officers sent to Linda Mullendore’s home.
Now, with that issue addressed, he found himself escorting the woman and her lawyer to the scene of the crime, the Cross Bell Ranch. The ranch was tucked away in a remote corner of sprawling Osage County in northern Oklahoma. At approximately 42,000 acres, it was one of the largest spreads in Oklahoma and home to thousands of head of cattle, bison and quarter horses.
Everything about the Cross Bell was well kept and first class, illustrating the Mullendore’s fondness for life’s finer things. Glanz soaked it all in as the car rolled past the gates for four miles until it reached the family compound.
The Cross Bell had been, until a few days earlier, home to Linda Mullendore and her four children. The 33-year-old native of nearby Pawhuska—a statuesque, dark-haired beauty with a regal air who bore more than a passing resemblance to Hollywood icon Elizabeth Taylor—had become E.C. Mullendore’s sweetheart when they were both in their early teens and married him in 1959. But their relationship became strained as E.C.’s financial difficulties multiplied and his drinking increased.
Relatively small in stature, the feisty E.C. was nevertheless no stranger to brawling, particularly after he’d been emboldened by a few hours of drinking. Linda watched his boozing with dismay and noted how it transformed her formerly even-tempered and highly focused husband into a mercurial, paunchy loudmouth. After the two had an intense verbal exchange a week earlier, Linda decided she had had enough.
She gathered up the children and fled the ranch, moving to Tulsa and filing for divorce on September 23. But an unknown assailant, or assailants, rendered that decision moot a little more than 48 hours later by firing a shot into E.C. Mullendore’s forehead.
Even at this early stage, Glanz realized he was fascinated with the case, which drew enormous media attention. What he didn’t know that morning was that his investigation into the crime would come to consume him for much of his life, requiring 40 years of detective work before the mystery would be fully unraveled..."